


Abyss

by DT Maxwell (Draya)



Series: Our Blades Are Sharp [23]
Category: Star Wars: The Old Republic
Genre: Gen, Haunted Artifacts, Sith Shenanigans, Sphere of Ancient Knowledge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 18:31:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1828135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draya/pseuds/DT%20Maxwell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The walls were screaming again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Abyss

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my tumblr in February 2014, for the prompt, "the walls are screaming again."
> 
> I took that as a call for more Sphere of Ancient Knowledge madness. :D

Darth Makhaira ground her teeth together, arms crossed as she stood in the very center of the cavernous room.

The Lower Archives contained the most dangerous artifacts the Sphere had (that weren’t on Korriban or Ziost or Krayiss Two, anyway - some of those were so dangerous, they couldn’t be moved off-world). Normally, the spirits and horrors that haunted most of the artifacts kept quiet, but the three Lords working in the Lower Archives today had run to her office sobbing how the voices _would not be silenced._

Darth Valere, unfortunately, was unavailable, and so Darth Makhaira had descended to the Archives herself.

She knew it was bad when the walls themselves were shouting, howling, _screaming_ in words she couldn’t make out and languages that made her skin crawl.

But the worst of them all were the fucking _whispers._

_Pretty, jumped up, vain thing, a pretender in Sith robes-_

_Come See, come play, leave your worries behind-_

_Do you really think he’s going to stay with you-_

_Their deaths are your fault-_

_You can’t save them-_

_You’d be so lovely all covered in blood-_

Darth Makhaira drew the Force around her, let it thrum inside her ribs and curl around her heart with a purr, and released a single, huge bolt of lightning into the ceiling. The thunderous _crack_ shook the room.

The whispers, the voices, and the screaming _stopped,_ so quickly the silence seemed to echo.

“If you are _quite_ finished?” Darth Makhaira’s voice dripped with annoyed disdain.

There was an indistinct murmur, and then:

_…Yes, Lord._

“Good.” Darth Makhaira turned on her heel and strode from the Lower Archives in a swirl of leather and velvet.


End file.
